Fading Dreams
by always krissy
Summary: "Andy had to laugh at the stupidity of that idea. A man. Harold Abbott, at that. Was he going mad?" [SLASH: Andy/Harold implied, Ephram/Bright, 1/1, PG-13]


TITLE: Fading Dreams  
AUTHOR: Krissy  
DISCLAIMER: The ever cool Everwood belongs to the WB. :D  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I have been toying with this idea since first seeing _Pilot_. Y'all know I already love Ephram/Bright, so that shouldn't be surprising, but the Andy/Harold is a new writing experiment. :D *cries* I know the Ephram-thought insult isn't really mean, but I just can't bear saying anything worse. So you can readjust that anyway you like. :) And I'd just like to state that they both *could* be bisexual. There is no reason to stop it. After all, like father, like son, right? ;)  
WARNING: This is slash, so please don't read if it offends you. Slash, meaning male/male love.  
PAIRING(S): Andy/Harold one-sided, Ephram/Bright  
RATING: PG-13  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Sometimes, despite adoring her, he was glad Julia was gone. If she'd known any of his thoughts, even the barest hint of them, she'd have been thoroughly disgusted. But then again, he probably wouldn't even be having these thoughts if she hadn't died.  
  
He sometimes tried to piece together what they meant.  
  
But it was usually impossible to do so.  
  
Parts of his dreams would sometimes stop him breathless, almost as much as Julia's ghost had. He sometimes wanted to reach out, and touch it, trying to savor the moment for as long as he could, before Edna'd say something and the reverie would be gone.  
  
Ephram had once told him that what he was seeing was called visions (well, based after the limited knowledge that Andy would share). Or something like that. Not dreams, or daydreams, or memories of dreams, but something he wanted badly, but would never have. Or maybe it was his projection, and Doctor Abbott's thoughts, too. Well, Ephram didn't say that last bit, but still. The theory was the same whether he was discussing the past moments of Julia's ghost, or thinking of the Abbott-dreams.  
  
Sometimes he felt guilty for having these dreams, or visions, or projections, because it felt like he was betraying Ephram, and Delia, and Julia . . .  
  
He still loved her, but maybe it was time to move on from her shadow.  
  
And move onto a married man?  
  
Andy had to laugh at the stupidity of that idea. _A man. Harold Abbott, at that_. Was he going mad?  
  
He could just hear the response he'd get, if he were to walk right up to Doctor Abbott, declaring that he was in lust with him.  
  
"Have you gone daft? Mentally insane? It must be the fumes from your office, what with all that lice circling in there, I'm fairly sure you've caught, it can't be good."  
  
Or imagine the reaction that he'd receive from Ephram.  
  
"Great. My dad's crazy, and now he's a flaming gay, too? What are you trying to do, kill me?!"  
  
He wondered what Julia would really say.  
  
She'd probably give him sad eyes, but say she understood.  
  
"You can't help who you're attracted to," she'd say, "but just remember who you love, okay?"  
  
He almost wished he could follow the advice of mind-Julia, but he knew it was no longer that simple. Would never be that simple.  
  
He didn't really know what she'd say in this situation. Maybe she really would be disgusted, and would have left him. Maybe she would have thrown him out of the house, for a month, then took him back if he stopped talking 'nonsense.' Or maybe she'd do exactly what he imagined her saying.  
  
He might not have been home often, but he did know his wife almost better than he knew himself.  
  
And she wouldn't have thrown him out. Maybe been displeased, but who wouldn't have been?  
  
He tried to imagine what he would have felt like if Julia had come home saying she was in love with Audrey, her best friend since High School, in New York.  
  
"How could you," he probably would have screamed, "I work so hard for you and my family and this is what I get? Shoved off to the side, like some leftover meat, while you go off and have sex with a woman?"  
  
He hated to think like that, but he had to think logically. That was how he was then, not how he is now, and would have been how he'd react. He wasn't pleased with whom he had been, but he was trying to change.  
  
And everything seemed to be changing.  
  
Oh well. He supposed there could be worse things.  
  
Although Harold was usually everyone's 'worse thing.'  
  
Andy laughed at himself.  
  
"Once again the crazy one, Doctor Brown. Congratulations."  
  
---  
  
"Dad?"  
  
Andy looked up from the paperwork he was finishing at his desk in his office. The sun had long ago set, leaving the room bathed in darkness. The only light came from his tiny desk lamp and another lamp in a far corner.  
  
"Hey, Ephram," Andy smiled. "What do I owe for this late-night visit?"  
  
"I, was kinda, well, wondering if you'd care if I went out with someone tonight."  
  
"As in a date?"  
  
Ephram contemplated the words, and considered telling him that it was none of his business, but nodded, at the last second. "Yeah. Kinda."  
  
"Are you taking Delia with you?"  
  
Ephram snorted. "As much as she loves him, no, we wanted to be alone."  
  
"Him?"  
  
The question caught Ephram off guard, and then he realized what he'd said. "Damn it," he swore beneath his breath. He looked somewhere between wanting to bolt and kill him.  
  
Andy sighed, "Its okay, Ephram. I don't care if you're seeing other boys, but does your Amy friend know?"  
  
"No," Ephram looked stricken at the idea, "no. She told me to move on, so I am. She doesn't need to know with whom."  
  
"I don't think this is what she had in mind," Andy told him dryly.  
  
"Probably not," Ephram shrugged, "but this is how it is. So, can I?"  
  
"Drop Delia off at Nina's first."  
  
Ephram smirked, "Already done."  
  
"Cocky, aren't we?" Andy chuckled. "Well, okay then. Don't be past--"  
  
"Midnight, yeah, yeah, I know."  
  
"--I was going to say ten, but okay, midnight's fine, since it still is technically Thanksgiving break."  
  
Ephram gave him a real smile, "Thanks. I'll be back, don't worry," he added at Andy's anxious expression. "I'll be -- we'll -- be fine."  
  
Andy tilted his head, eyeing his son. Then he turned, staring out the window. He watched the moon sneak from behind the clouds, and could see the shadow of a curly-haired boy. He smiled, turning back to Ephram, "Yes, we will be. Now you better run, or you'll be late, as I can't see Bright being the patient one."  
  
". . . How did you know--!"  
  
Andy just smiled. "I'm a father, Ephram, I just know these things."  
  
"Oh," Ephram digested this. "Makes sense."  
  
"Plus I saw his shadow, and I only know one person with Bright's hairstyle. Now," he added hastily, before Ephram's retort left his lips, "Go. Have fun. Just make sure you're home on time."  
  
"I will be. And dad," Ephram hesitated, "thanks."  
  
Andy watched his son leave his office, and smiled. "No, Ephram, thank _you_." 


End file.
